


pain relievers and other terms of endearment

by mearcats



Series: home is wherever i'm with you [7]
Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: AU from 12.07, Abby whump, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bedsharing, Co-showering, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Medical Procedures, PROTECT THEM, Romance, Sexual Frustration, Sharing a Bed, Sickfic, Willful Obliviousness, but I'm out to hurt all of Luka's 3 feelings, idiots to lovers, some normal obliviousness, they are so small (in their emotions) and so dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23058661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mearcats/pseuds/mearcats
Summary: Abby isn't scheduled to work during The Human Shield, so she and Luka don't fall back into each other's arms then. But they're heading that direction anyway, and a surprise illness might just be the thing that brings them together again.
Relationships: Luka Kovač/Abby Lockhart
Series: home is wherever i'm with you [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1340614
Comments: 37
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Somekindofflower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somekindofflower/gifts).



> Somekindofflower and I can't stop talking about how long Abby and Luka could have gone without getting together if The Human Shield hadn't happened the way it did. This isn't the first answer I've had and it probably won't be the last. I love these idiots.
> 
> Rating is at M, though it hasn't earned it yet. 
> 
> I have no idea how many chapters this will be because I don't understand what a one-shot is anymore, apparently.

Abby shifts on her bar stool, trying to ignore the pain in her side. It almost works—Neela and Michael are so happy and cute, and Luka is next to her and adorably excited about being made chief. She really just wants to flirt with him and enjoy the celebration, but the ache is getting sharper. She probably just needs to walk it off. Or sleep for two days straight.

Luka must have noticed her grimace, because his smile turns to a look of concern. “Abby? Are you okay?”

“I just have a stitch in my side. I think I need to...I don’t know, take a walk, or take some tylenol and go to bed. One of the two.”

He reaches over to touch her forearm, a comforting gesture that would normally make her ache in a completely different way. “Let me take you home, all right?”

Abby can’t disagree; the prospect of the El right now isn’t exactly exciting, and it’ll save her a taxi fare. “Okay. Let me say bye to Neela and Michael. I feel bad…”

“But you’ll feel worse if you stay.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Feeling Luka’s eyes on her, she makes her way over to Neela’s booth. “Congrats again, newlyweds.”

“Are you heading out?” Neela is giddy enough on martinis and love that any disappointment about Abby’s early departure barely registers. 

“Yeah, I’m not feeling so great, so Luka’s going to drive me home.”

“Ohhh, Dr. Kovač,” Neela says, attempting a sly wink. Michael is just confused.

In spite of herself, Abby smiles. “Sure, whatever. We’re definitely going to have hot monkey sex. I’m definitely not going to pass out the second I get home.”

Michael is still puzzled. “Huh?”

Neela, on the other hand, is delighted. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, Dr. Lockhart.”

Shaking her head, Abby says, “Well, good night. Stay hydrated and all that jazz. And seriously, I’m very happy for you two.”

She heads back to Luka. The pain on her right side is getting worse, and she grits her teeth. 

When she gets to him, he reaches out and wraps an arm around her shoulder. It’s sweet and protective, and she wishes she could luxuriate in it. Right now, she’s just grateful for the literal support.

He takes her to his car and helps her in, reaching across her to buckle her in. Abby wants to scold him, but she doesn’t really have the strength for it, not when he has that concerned look on his face and his hair is hanging over his eyes just so. If it didn’t hurt so much to move, she would reach up and brush it out of his face. 

“Are you sure you want to go home? I can get you over to the ER and we could get you checked out.”

Clenching her jaw, she shakes her head. “No, I don’t want to go back there before I have to.”

“Abby…”

“Come on, Luka, I just want to go home.”

“Okay, fine. If it gets worse…”

“I’ll let you know, I promise.”

He gets in on the driver’s side and they start heading back to her place. He plays one of his CDs, the annoyingly familiar Copacabana that was just playing at the reception assaulting her eardrums.

Abby can’t help but roll her eyes. He really does have the worst taste in music.

But it’s _very_ cute that he’s trying to sing along. If only she could enjoy it as much as she wants to.

Instead, she hisses at the sharp, stabbing pain on her side. If these are cramps, she’s cancelling her period. 

“The Manilow is that bad, huh?” She can tell he’s trying to tease her, even though he’s obviously worried. 

“Awful,” she says, gasping. A buzzing starts in her ears as the pain increases, and her body clenches. She hears herself moan as her vision blurs, the pain and rising nausea dueling for supremacy over her body. 

“Abby?” Luka demands. 

It’s the last thing she hears before she passes out. 

* * *

Luka pulls an illegal u-turn and speeds back to County. He tries rousing Abby, but she’s out cold. Panic rises in his throat as he pulls into the ambulance bay. He’ll get a ticket or get towed, but he doesn’t care about that right now.

 _God, just let Abby be okay,_ he prays. Inez and Clemente make their way out and are clearly on the verge of yelling when they see it’s him and that he has an unconscious Abby in his arms. 

“Get a gurney,” he tells them, and for once Clemente doesn’t argue. 

They get Abby onto a gurney, wheeling her into a trauma room as they ask him what’s wrong. Clemente starts to give Luka a hard time for not bringing her straight to the ER when they left Baby Joon’s, but Luka shut him down. “Have you ever tried to convince Abby to do something she doesn’t want to do? I offered repeatedly, and she said no. I got here as quickly as I could.”

“Right side pain? After having abdominal tenderness and pain earlier in the day? Come on, man, how did you miss it?”

Luka glares. “Believe me, I’m beating myself up for it. But you missed it earlier today too, and so did Abby for that matter. Shut up and let’s get her to surgery.”

Abby stirs just as Dubenko arrives, and Luka gives a sigh of relief, as feeble as her words are. “What happened?”

Taking her hand, he lets out a breath. “You passed out in the car.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, it’s definitely appendicitis, and it probably ruptured, Abby,” Dubenko says with a gentle smile, though his eyes are serious. “We’re going to take you up right now. Do you have someone who can make medical decisions for you if that’s necessary? A living will or advance directive?”

She shakes her head.

“Do you want to appoint someone? It should be fine, and we’ll take good care of you, but…”

With a quick glance at him, Abby cuts in, “Luka. If he’s willing.”

He squeezes her hand. “Of course.”

“All right, then let’s head up.”

Luka lets go of her hand as they get into the elevator, hoping that Dubenko will let him stay for her appendectomy. When he asks, Dubenko agrees on the condition that he remain an observer. “If you get in the way, I’ll make you go to the observation deck.”

“Okay.” Anything to stay close to Abby.

As quickly as they can, they prep Abby for surgery, Dubenko and Shirley and a resident all scrubbed in and ready. 

Clemente starts to head back down to the ER, but he turns to Luka. “Hey, let us know how she’s doing, okay?”

“Hopefully she’ll be able to tell you herself. But yes.”

The anaesthesiologist comes in and Abby goes under, and the surgery begins. Luka is certain he’s never been more grateful for Dubenko, who, for all his awkward bumbling is one of the most talented and compassionate surgeons he’s ever met.

Luka is familiar with appendectomies, even ones where the appendix has ruptured, but he still finds Dubenko’s methodical explanations soothing. Whether it’s for Luka’s benefit or for the resident’s, he doesn’t care. 

Still, he’s glad when it’s over. Dubenko finishes up packing her wound, eyes crinkling in a tired smile that Luka can see through the surgical mask. “Okay, we’re done. I’ll take her down to recovery myself, if you want to come with me, Dr. Kovač.”

“Of course.”

Dubenko tells him what he already knows as they walk, though he doesn’t mind. In fact, he’s kind of glad of the reminder. This is Abby; Luka isn’t thinking with his medical brain. “The surgery went well, all things considered. She’ll stay in the hospital for at least three days, but it might be closer to a week, just so we can monitor her for signs of infection.”

“That’s good.”

Dubenko looks like he has more to add, but instead he shakes his head and pats Luka’s shoulder. “She’s going to be fine. Abby’s a trooper.”

Luka manages a smile back at him. “She is. And Lucien? Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Technically it’s past visiting hours, but as he’s a doctor and they know him, they’re willing to let him stay with her for as long as he wants. 

He loses track of the time and is dozing in his chair when he hears Abby stirring. He straightens and reaches for her hand.

She blinks at him in confusion, and he lets out a sigh of relief. 

“Where am I?”

“County, in recovery.”

A furrow appears on her forehead before she gives him the slightest nod. “Mmm, yeah. My appendix.”

“It ruptured. And you didn’t tell any of us how bad it was. Or that it was your appendix and not your stomach.”

Weakly, she waves his scolding aside. “‘M fine now, though.”

“Your appendix _ruptured_. You’ll be in the hospital for days, and we’ll have to monitor you for weeks for signs of infection. Abby, you could have died!” In his agitation, he reaches out to take her pulse.

She gets that mulish look that he hates (loves) on her face. “Well, now maybe you’ll know how it feels.”

Luka is confused. “How what feels?”

“Almost losing the person you—”

Their conversation is cut off by Dr. Dubenko and one of the nurses. “Ah, you’re waking up, Dr. Lockhart.”

“Yup.”

“That’s good,” Lucien says, smiling at her. “I won’t burden you with information too much right now, but you came through all right, and Dr. Kovač kept an eye on us the whole time. In a little bit we’ll move you to your own room, okay?”

“Okay. Lucien?”

“Yes?”

“Your hair is pretty,” Abby says very seriously. As an afterthought, she turns to the nurse. “So is yours. Luka’s is really nice too and it’s soft, but I think he dyes it.”

Clearly all of the effects of anaesthesia haven’t worn off. Even though he can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, he and Dubenko make eye contact and try not to laugh. The nurse is more professional, but even she’s fighting a grin.

“Thank you, Abby. Now, if you need anything else, let one of the nursing staff know. I’ll come check on you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

As soon as Lucien and the nurse are gone, Luka reaches for Abby’s hand. “Telling everyone I dye my hair, huh?”

“Not everyone. And your hair is very pretty either way.”

“Thank you. I think.”

Abby smiles, and says in a sing-song voice. “Beautiful hair for a beautiful man.”

“I can’t wait to tease you about this tomorrow,” Luka says with a snort. 

* * *

He doesn’t end up teasing her the next morning, or the entire next day. After she’s moved to her own room, she falls back asleep. Luka is curious about what she was going to say to him before they were interrupted, but it’s more important that she rest. By the time she wakes up the next morning, she has visitors. 

Kerry is the first one in, Luka having called her as soon as he could to let her know about Abby’s operation. They square away that Abby’s schedule, and Kerry promises to bring Henry by to visit in a few days. 

On her way out, she motions to Luka, and he follows. “Rough night?”

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice—”

“None of us did, Luka. Other than trying to beat yourself up over things beyond your control, how are you doing?”

He huffs. “Okay. Tired. I was able to doze off a little, but I’m glad I don’t work today.”

“Good. Make sure you go home and get some actual sleep, for your own sake as well as Abby’s. But that brings me to my next question—are you going to need some time off? I assume you’ll want to stay with Abby and help take care of her.”

“Not yet, but maybe once she’s released and goes home. I think she’ll need more help then, and while she’s in the hospital I’ll be around. So will nearly every other one of Abby’s friends.”

“Just keep me posted.”

Luka nods and goes back inside, but it isn’t long before Neela stops by during a lull down in the ER. As the morning turns to afternoon, she’s followed by Morris, Chuny, Pratt, and Haleh. After that, Luka loses count.

In the afternoon, her fever spikes. There’s a stretch of time that blurs together, and for the rest of his life, Luka can’t say how long the doctors worked on fighting her infection and he waited and prayed, pacing in the corner. 

She comes out of it, sweaty and exhausted. She’s crying, though, and Luka’s heart breaks. He goes over to her, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips as he sits beside her. 

“It hurts, Luka.”

“Shhh, I know. The morphine should kick in again soon.”

“W-would you stay?”

“For as long as you want me to,” he promises.

Abby nods, her grip on his hand relaxing as the drugs start working. “I’m glad.”

Luka finds a Shakespeare collection that some previous patient has left, and he reads to Abby until she drifts off. It calms him too, just as it did at university.

Near nine that night, one of the nurses comes in, wheeling in an extra bed. “Um, doctor? Dr. Dubenko said to bring the bed in here so you could stay with your girlfriend.”

He doesn’t have the heart or inclination to correct her. “Thank you.”

It’s not going to be the most comfortable of nights, but there’s nowhere he’d rather be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Luka wonder if friendship is the only thing between them, even as he helps her get settled in back at her apartment following her emergency appendectomy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your response to the first chapter! At this point, there will be at least 2 more chapters. I'll try to keep updating regularly, but I can make no promises, given work, COVID-19 issues, trying to prepare to move, and more. Hope you all enjoy!

A week after her emergency appendectomy, Abby gets to go home. She’s tired of the hospital, hospital food, and even her friends’ constant checking in. She’s relieved to be sitting in the wheelchair waiting for someone to accompany her outside.

There’s only one person she’s _not_ tired of, and he’s bringing his car around to pick her up. She has no idea how she’s going to survive the next...indeterminate amount of time...that Luka is staying with her to help take care of her. 

If she can make it through the last few days of having to have her wound packed, she’ll be fine. Probably.

Abby grimaces when she sees Sam approaching her, though she tries to school her features as quickly as possible. Damn it, she had hoped Haleh or Chuny would be the ones taking her out. 

Doing her best to plaster on a neutral face, Abby nods in response to Sam’s chipper greeting. “Hey, Abby! Ready to bust out?”

“I’ve even signed the legal documents to prove it.”

Sam starts pushing the wheelchair towards the main door, but Abby stops her. “Oh, um, Luka’s picking me up just outside the ambulance bay.”

“Oh! Okay. So, uh, I-I didn’t realize you guys were that close,” Sam says in a determinedly neutral tone. 

Unsure of how to respond, Abby shrugs. “He’s the best.”

“He’s going to be staying with you, huh?”

They’re veering into “so not your business” territory, and Abby refuses to give Sam the satisfaction of an answer. She certainly doesn’t owe her an explanation. Instead, Abby clams up. “Yep.”

She can feel the disappointment coming off of Sam in waves. It might be petty, but Abby luxuriates in the thrill of triumph. If Sam had wanted to know who Luka was close to, she could have found out in the year and a half they dated. As for her curiosity about Luka’s feelings, she doesn’t have a right to it anymore. She’s never had a right to Abby’s.

Abby isn’t here for Sam’s gossip or entertainment, and she refuses to let Luka be. Fortunately, he’s shown no signs of interest at all in Sam since that night three months before, when he’d confided in Abby about his fears of being alone and with no one who sees him.

Abby sees him. And not just metaphorically, she thinks with relief, as she catches sight of his tall, dark-haired form ambling over. 

“Hey, Sam. Thanks for helping Abby out. I’ve got it from here,” he says, grinning at Abby the whole time. 

“It, huh?” Abby asks, unable to keep from smiling back at him.

He rolls his eyes, recognizing the verbal trap and not responding. “Bye, Sam. See you around.”

“Bye, Luka. Abby.”

Abby murmurs a farewell, and then forgets Sam entirely as Luka pushes her wheelchair to his car. 

Just as he did the previous week, Luka helps her into the passenger side. It’s amazing how something so little would once have sent her panicking, but now it leaves her feeling safe and comforted.

And to think she originally hadn’t wanted him to help her.

_“Luka, go home. Get some sleep in an actual, comfortable bed,” Abby pleads._

_He sets his jaw in that stubborn way he has that drives her crazy AND makes her want to kiss him. “No, I’m fine here.”_

_She’s exasperated. “You’ve slept here the last four nights.”_

_“So have you.”_

_“Well, you’re not the one whose appendix ruptured. At least one of us should be able to wash our hair and be comfortable.”_

_Luka wrinkles his nose. “I’ve been going home for showers and meals. Besides, I have it on good authority that my hair is pretty. Perhaps not as pretty as Lucien’s, but still.”_

_“What?” Abby is completely lost._

_He grins and gets a wicked look in his eye, and Abby melts in spite of herself. “Oh, you don’t remember? It’s just something you said after your surgery. You told Dubenko that he had very pretty hair. And I think you didn’t want me to be left out, because you told me—and Dubenko and the nurse—that I also have pretty and soft hair, even if I dye it.”_

_“Oh my god,” she says, burying her face in her hands. Her confusion turns into embarrassment, the heat rising in her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”_

_“There I was, being a good—well, being there for you, and you tell my secrets and they spread all over the hospital,” he teases._

_“Jesus.”_

_“Just Luka is fine.”_

_She reaches out and lightly smacks his arm, but she’s smiling through it. “You’re ridiculous.”_

_“But a beautiful man with beautiful hair, even if I dye it. According to you.”_

_“When I get out of this bed, I’m going to murder you.”_

_He leans back in his chair, still grinning. “I look forward to it.”_

_Abby sighs. “It’ll be a few more days anyway.” It’s been four days since her surgery. She’s pretty much out of the woods, but they want to keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t have any more issues with infection. “Even when I get out, they still want me to come back every couple of days. Something about not trusting me to tell them if I am having issues.”_

_“I wonder why they think that,” he says, staring at her pointedly._

_She shrugs._

_Luka pauses, then tentatively speaks. “I...well, I have an idea if you don’t want to be coming back to the hospital and constantly trying to reassure people.”_

_“Oh?” she asks, perking up._

_“Come stay with me.”_

_Abby stares at him. He can’t be serious, can he? It’s an absolutely TERRIBLE idea, given how she feels about him. Not that he knows about that, but still. “No.”_

_“Why not?” He asks, looking hurt._

_She softens at his dejection. “Luka...how would that work? Besides, I don’t want to be on your couch recovering—”_

_“Then you can take the bed,” he interrupts._

_“Oh, fantastic, then you can be way too giant on the couch while I struggle up the stairs worrying about my stitches.”_

_“Okay, so let me stay at your place and help take care of you there. Then you’re on one floor and in your own bed, and I can monitor you so you don’t have to come in every day or two. AND I can reach things on the top shelf in the kitchen for you,” he finishes triumphantly._

_It’s getting difficult to say no to that puppy dog expression on his face, especially since the idea of Luka being around helping her fetch things is far from repulsive._

_She’s weakening, but has one last protest. “Where will you sleep? My couch?”_

_Reaching out to take her hand, Luka gives her a sweet and earnest look. “Abby, I’ll sleep better on your couch or even your floor knowing you’re okay than I would at home in my bed wondering and worrying.”_

_Oh. Abby squeezes his hand, blinking back tears. If she could have done that for him when he was recovering from malaria a couple years ago, she would have in a heartbeat. So how can she say no to him when he’s asking to do the same?_

_She bites her lip, then nods. “Okay. But please go home and sleep in your own bed for the next couple of nights. I’m doing okay, and they’ll call you if something goes wrong.”_

_His smile at her is nearly blinding. “I can do that.”_

Abby shakes her head. She hopes Luka hasn’t noticed her distraction, but keeps looking over at her out of the corner of his eye. 

“You doing okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I was just wool-gathering.”

His brow wrinkles. “Like...shearing a sheep?”

She giggles. “No, it just means that you’re lost in thought.” 

“English,” he mutters grumpily, though his disgruntlement is belied by his twinkling eyes. 

God, he’s gorgeous. “Hey, you chose to live and remain in a country where English is the predominant language. And all I know of Croatian are some curse words you taught me back when we were dating.”

He freezes at the mention of their former relationship, and she tenses. Oops. She didn’t mean to bring that up. Maybe the painkillers aren’t completely out of her system yet…

“Oh, we’re here,” she says with relief, seeing her apartment come into view. 

Luka’s shoulders slump, but he gives her a sweet smile anyway. “We are. Let me help you up the stairs, then I’ll try to find a parking spot.”

&&&

Luka helps Abby out of the car, letting her lean on him as they go up the stairs. As soon as she’s at her door, Luka hurries out to move his car, circling the block until he finds a parking spot. He takes his time walking back to her apartment with his weekender bag, reeling. It’s not the first in the last few months Abby’s mentioned their relationship, _and_ she talked about him being good-looking repeatedly while she was recovering from painkillers. He is clearly important enough to her for her to make him her emergency contact. 

Dangerous as it is to hope—it’s certainly gotten him into trouble with her before—he can’t help but wonder...is she thinking about _them_? His mind wanders back to a few days ago, after she’d agreed to let him stay with her and take care of her.

_“If you’re in pain, you’re allowed to take more pain relievers. That’s what they’re for,” Luka says matter-of-factly._

_Abby rolls her eyes. “I’m a doctor, too, Luka. I know.”_

_“Then…”_

_“Then maybe—and you’ll know this too, since you’re also a doctor—I don’t want to become dependent on them. Especially given my history.”_

_Luka huffs and pinches his nose. “That’s understandable, but if I’m here watching you be in so much pain that you’re crying, I’m going to want you to feel better. As a doctor, not just as your...friend.”_

_“Well, who asked you to stay?” Abby snarls. She’s been irritated and grumpy today, and she’s spoiling for a fight. Luka won’t give her one, but he’s tired and frustrated in spite of sleeping in his own bed last night and his victory yesterday in convincing her to let him take care of her while she recovers._

_Her question stops his developing snit and he softens. “You did.”_

_Abby comes up short and her irritation turns to confusion. “Huh?”_

_“When you first had an issue with infection, the day after the surgery. You were hurting, and you asked me to stay.”_

_“Oh,” she says, obviously at a rare loss for words. Then, letting out a sigh, she continues, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you just now. I’m just…”_

_“Tired? Hungry? In pain?”_

_“All of the above, but I don’t know, it’s harder than I thought it would be, with people around all the time. I haven’t showered in days—”_

_“—you’ve been bathed—”_

_“—by a nurse, and not the point. Actually, it kind of is. I’m used to doing things for myself, and having to let a bunch of people who I don’t know or only know by sight take care of me...it’s not my favorite, Luka,” she says, settling back into her pillows._

_He hasn’t been thinking about it that way, but Abby is very independent. For her to not only have people swarming over her for days, but to also agree to let him help her? No wonder she’s having a hard time. He rakes a hand through his hair, and bites his lip. “Is there something I can do? I can go get you food from Ike’s. Or I can just go, if you want to be by yourself.”_

_Letting out a sigh, she shakes her head. “No, if you leave, I know someone else will just come in. I like your company and you’re not crowding me, it’s just the whole situation.”_

_As if on cue, a nurse comes in after a cursory knock. “Hi, Dr. Lockhart, Dr. Kovač,” she says perkily._

_Luka kind of hates her. Abby is opening up to him and talking to him about what she’s feeling, and then she has to come in and interrupt. Bah._

_Abby rolls her eyes again, but it’s good-natured this time and he can see her struggling not to laugh at how quickly she’s been proven right._

_She takes Abby’s vitals and asks if there’s anything she needs, and Abby lets her open the morphine drip a little. Promising to come back with an exciting meal of turkey breast and jello from the cafeteria, the nurse makes her way to the door. As she’s heading out, she giggles and tells Luka, “Oh, by the way, your hair looks really good today.”_

_Luka groans and drops his face into his hands as she leaves._

_Snorting, Abby nonetheless apologizes. “Sorry, I guess that’s on me and my delirium.”_

_“I just love how quickly gossip spreads around here.”_

_“Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone thinks you’re less attractive for it, if that’s what’s bothering you.”_

_“I don’t care about that or her,” he says, waving his hand. “I just...it’s embarrassing.”_

_She shrugs. “I slept with you when you had grey streaks. It’s not a bad look, but it’s okay if you’re vain about it. I dye my hair too.” Then it seems to dawn on her what she just admitted, and her cheeks flush._

_He stares at her, fighting a smirk. “So, was my hair—”_

_Abby cuts him off, still red from embarrassment. “Well, I think I’ve changed my mind. Would you be willing to get me a burger and a salad from Ike Ryan’s?”_

_“Sure,” he says, accepting the change of subject gracefully, even if he’s still smiling. Getting up from his chair, he battles the urge to go over and kiss her forehead. “Whatever you want, just tell me.”_

He’s at her door now. Luka has the key Abby gave him yesterday, but he doesn’t want to burst in and be rude. Instead, he raps at the door, only to find it unlocked. He pushes his head through before coming in, seeing Abby in her kitchen staring into the fridge. Setting down his bag, he walks over to her.

“You went grocery shopping. And made sure my kitchen wasn’t disgusting.”

Luka shrugs. “I didn’t think you’d want to come home to a mess.”

“I didn’t. Thank you,” she says, surprising him when she comes toward him and wraps her arms around his waist in a firm hug.

Fortunately, loving her is a reflex that’s never stopped, and he immediately sinks into the embrace, his arms encircling her. 

Wait. _LOVE_? Does he love Abby again? He’s still for a moment, and then he shakes his head at his own foolishness. The truth he’s always known is that he’s never stopped loving her, and he doesn’t think he ever will. 

Pulling back reluctantly, he clears his throat. “Do you want to set up and watch some TV? I also brought journal articles, if you want to look over those. I’ll start dinner in a little bit.”

“TV is good. I want at least one day of not thinking about or being near the hospital at all,” she says, eyes shining with mirth and something softer.

“That’s fair. How do you feel about _maneštra_?”

Abby squints up at him. “That’s not that gruel, is it?”

“No,” he says with a laugh. “Just vegetable stew. I might add some chicken.”

“Well, that’s fine, then.”

They watch some Christmas movie that’s on until Luka makes their dinner, which both of them wolf down. It’s been a week of hospital and restaurant food, so a home-cooked meal makes a pleasant change. 

She tries to help him do the dishes, but he shoos her back to the couch. When he’s done, she puts on a documentary that he’s wanted to see. Unable to resist her hopeful eyes and the way she pats the couch next to her, he joins her in watching. 

Luka settles in next to her, not touching her but within easy reach if she needs him. Or if the movie gets frightening, he thinks with an internal snort. He’s ridiculous. 

He’s thus surprised but delighted when her small hand slips under his partway through the movie. When he glances at Abby out of the corner of his eye, she’s determinedly watching what’s going on onscreen. He emulates her external cool but weaves their fingers together, thrilled when she gives his hand a little squeeze. He squeezes back.

When the documentary is over, Abby yawns.

Concerned, Luka asks, “Do you need help changing the packing on your wound?”

“Nah, they changed it earlier, so I don’t need to change it until tomorrow unless it’s acting up, but it’s been fine.”

“Okay. Well, while you’re getting ready for bed, I’ll get set up on the couch, if you don’t mind telling me where your extra blankets and pillows are. If you don’t have any, I think I have some extra in my car.”

Abby bites her lip, then shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it, Luka. You can just stay in the bedroom with me. It’s roomier than the couch even with the two of us, and if I do need anything you’ll be right there.”

He swallows, then nods. It’s hard to argue against something that he wants, but he does have one concern. “What if I turn in the night and hit your surgical site in my sleep?”

“You’re not the type to toss and turn, if I remember correctly,” she replies with a studied, casual air.

“Right,” he says, dumbly. Inside he’s screaming—joy, hope, desire, confusion, and concern all vie for dominance. 

They wordlessly get ready for bed after that, working around each other with ease. Abby climbs into bed, and Luka follows as soon as she’s settled. 

He’s very aware of his own breathing. They’re maybe six inches apart, but it’s too far. Luka reaches for Abby’s hand, and he exhales his relief when she takes it. 

“Good night, Luka.”

“Good night, Abby. Sleep well.”


	3. Chapter 3

Luka wakes up with his arm asleep, his mouth full of hair, and a sense that all is right with the world. As he blinks away the sleep, he realizes that it’s so right because it’s _Abby_ lying on his arm, Abby’s hair in his mouth, Abby on her good side, an arm wrapped around his waist and a leg tucked over his. 

His body also finds this to be a very interesting turn of events. Certain parts of his anatomy tell him that it would indeed be right to turn and wake Abby. 

That’s it, he’s simultaneously in heaven and hell. Abby doesn’t seem entirely averse to his proximity, but rushing in and making a move seems unwise to him. He’s too in love with her to bear it if it’s just scratching an itch for her, and besides, she’s in no condition for anything too strenuous right now anyway. 

But holding her in his arms? After she asked him to do so? Glorious. It’s everything he’s wanted for over four years, and he’s certain it’s what he’ll want for the rest of his life.

So he can wait. As gently as he can, Luka slides his arm from under Abby’s head and eases off the bed. She doesn’t stir, still sleeping soundly.

He looks down ruefully at the tenting in his boxers. There’s nothing for it; he’ll have to take a cold shower. 

Luka is coming out of the shower and toweling his hair dry when Abby emerges from her bedroom, adorably disheveled and grumpy as he remembers her being in the mornings. Fortunately, he got coffee started brewing before his shower, so she doesn’t have to suffer until it’s ready.

He joins her in there, basking in the quiet. After she’s had about half a mug, Abby finally breaks the silence. “Good morning.”

“And a good morning to you,” he says with a smile, fighting the growing desire to go over and kiss her in greeting. 

“No sleeping in today, huh?”

“Oh, uh, I couldn’t. I wanted to get a shower anyway. I was planning on starting breakfast, if you want.”

Abby smiles back. “You’re in my kitchen offering to make breakfast. I’m definitely not going to complain.”

He reaches around her for a mug, all but catching her in his arms as he pours some coffee for himself. “Well, then. Still like ketchup on your eggs?”

* * *

The next day, Luka takes Abby in to get her stitched up. They’re going to remove all the packing and get her all stitched up, as long as everything looks good. 

Luka is sure it’ll be fine. He changed the packing yesterday, and she was fine. If anything, they had to worry about Abby being restless. After watching junk TV for three hours, she’d gotten bored and sulked about not having much to do. He had offered her his journal articles then. She had just given him an annoyed look and a pointed comment about work following her home, but she’d taken them. She accepted his later offering of dinner and a mystery novel much more gracefully.

He takes her in, and he’s almost a little disappointed she doesn’t need to lean on him for support. Of course, he’s glad she’s doing well, but the way he reacts to her touch…

Abby does let him help her out of the car, and he itches to take her hand as they walk into the hospital. They greet Frank and Pratt, and Pratt offers to stitch Abby up. Chuny comes by and hugs Abby in greeting, joining them while Pratt makes sure there’s no sign of infection. 

“Looks like Luka did a good job keeping this clean,” Pratt says with a smirk.. 

Abby rolls her eyes. “Yeah, looks like all that medical training of his finally came in handy.”

“I bet it’s _handy_ ,” chimes in Chuny. 

Luka’s cheeks heat, even as he shakes his head. Does it really take their coworkers such a short amount of time to start teasing them?

Abby’s cheeks are pink too, and under her breath she mutters something that sounds a lot like, “Not handsy enough, though.”

He swallows. 

Pratt finishes suturing her up and tells Abby to come in in 7-10 days. 

“Or Luka could remove them.”

Luka shrugs. “Sure, though you might be tired of just seeing me then, so maybe you’ll want to come in.”

“Unlikely, especially if you keep making dinners like last night’s,” she says with a smile.

The world narrows to just the two of them, and he grins softly at her. “For as long as you want.”

Her lips part, but whatever she’s about to say is cut off by Pratt clearing his throat. “Okay, Abby. You know the drill on how to take care of the stitches, but make sure you don’t pull them or do anything to exert yourself too much.” He says the last part with a suggestive eyebrow raise that has Abby rolling her eyes again. 

Not content to let anyone else have the last word, Chuny calls out as they leave, “Yeah, be safe, you two.”

Luka doesn’t mind how red he is when Abby leans into this hand at the small of her back as they leave, though.

* * *

Abby’s relief at her good prognosis and the way she’s healing carries her into the next day. She wakes up fairly chipper for her, especially when she realizes Luka’s hand is cupping her breast over her sleep shirt and he’s hard against her ass.

Her own body responds instinctively, while her heart clenches at Luka’s gentle care for her, even in his sleep. It’s so amazing, having him in her bed, even if they’re just sharing space and warmth. Abby’s missed this more than she could possibly express. She’s about to snuggle back into his arms (even if that means possibly waking him, the horror…) when she becomes very aware that she hasn’t had more than a sponge bath in a long time and that it’s been DAYS since her hair has been clean.

Abby sighs and reluctantly pulls away from Luka’s warmth. That would be fitting, making her first move in years on the gorgeous man she loves while she has stringy, greasy hair and smells a little...stale. 

She gets up and makes her way to the kitchen, turning on the coffee maker. She calls the local bagel shop, and they agree to deliver breakfast soon. She’s grateful that Luka has been making them food, but she doesn’t want him to be doing it all the time either. 

She doesn’t want him to get tired of this. She doesn’t want him to get tired of _her_. 

Their bagel sandwiches arrive about thirty minutes later. The noise and the smell of food must wake Luka, because he stumbles out, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she says, holding out a cup of black coffee for him. 

He takes it and smiles in thanks. “Did you sleep okay? I’m usually up before you.”

Ah, so he _does_ remember their habits from years before. Abby fights a blush. “Yeah, I did. I was just hungry and kind of restless.”

“You should have woken me up. I would have made us breakfast.”

“You don’t have to, you know. You’re more than earning your, ah, keep.”

He raises a brow at her. “Am I a kept man, then?”

Abby snorts. “You wish. As far as I know, though, I’m the only one who’s been propositioned lately. And you’re here taking care of _me_.”

Choking on his coffee, he turns red. She’s concerned she’s going to have to do the Heimlich on him when he shakes his head, eyes glittering with amusement and something else she recognizes but can’t quite place. “Abby, you’re hardly...mistress material. You’re—well, you’re so much more than that. I’ve never known anyone so brave or strong. You deserve to have someone take care of you and make you food every now and then.”

Oh god, she’s definitely blushing now. Swallowing, she thrusts the plate holding his bagel sandwich at him. “Well, here’s your bagel. It has that ham and cheese you like.”

“Thank you,” he says after a pause, taking the plate. 

They go to her couch and sit at the ends, enjoying companionable silence as they eat their breakfast. When they’re done, Luka stretches out and asks, “So what are you thinking of doing today?”

She chews on her bottom lip. “I want to take a shower and wash my hair.”

“Abby—”

“Look, I know I need to be careful. But I can tape plastic over my stitches. I just want to feel clean.”

“And how are you going to wash your hair? Reaching up like that will pull at your stitches and would loosen the tape.”

He’s right, and she knows it. Her shoulders slump. “Okay, so I won’t wash my hair. But the shower should work.”

It’s Luka’s turn to look uncertain, and he runs a hand through his hair. “What if I help you?”

“Pardon?” she squeaks. She presses her legs together, knowing he can’t possibly mean what her body thinks (and hopes) he means.

“Ah, with your hair? I can wash it.” He’s gone the color of a tomato again.

She’s probably about the same shade too. “Um, in the shower? Are—um, how would that work?”

Looking down, he licks his lip. “We can, ah, either wait until you’re out of the shower and I could wash after.”

“I don’t have one of those detachable shower head things that would make that easy.”

Clearing his throat, he continues, “Or we could both get into the shower. We can, ah, wear some clothes in there, but then I could wash your hair more easily.”

Abby is pretty sure her brain has stopped working in any meaningful way. To say that she wants that is the understatement of a lifetime. But she’s also very cognizant that she’s a grown woman who can wash her own hair, dammit.

Except she can’t, not now. Taking a deep breath, she nods. “Okay, we can do that.”

“Okay.”

Abby goes to her room, mind and heart racing. What on earth do you wear for probably platonic co-showering with the man you’ve been in love with for years? She ends up pulling on a button-up shirt and a pair of underwear. This is ridiculous and she refuses to get a pair of her pajama pants soaking wet. There’s no need for extreme modesty—not only are they both doctors, but Luka saw her in a hospital gown recently AND they’ve seen each other naked plenty of times before. 

That’s not a helpful thought, or at least not conducive to her continuing sanity, so Abby does her best to banish it while she tapes the plastic over her stitches.

She walks out into her living room in her robe and nearly has an aneurysm when she finds Luka standing there in just his boxers. 

He grins sheepishly and shrugs. “I didn’t want to get my pajama pants or t-shirt wet. But I can put them back on if you prefer.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she says quickly. “So, um, do you want to do this first, then I can get the rest of my shower?”

“Sure. And I can grab our wet clothes and put them in the washing machine too.”

“Perfect.”

He files into the bathroom after her, the tension between them thick enough to cut. Abby turns on the water and adjusts the temperature, then removes her robe. She gives Luka a tight, awkward smile before pushing back the curtain and stepping in. She spares a moment to be grateful she got her legs waxed right before everything went crazy with her appendectomy. 

Luka swallows, then steps in behind her. 

She’s never really appreciated just how small her shower is until now, sheesh. 

She breaks the silence. “Um, I’ll get my hair wet, I guess.”

“All right,” he says, reaching for the shampoo. He brushes against her as he does, and Abby sighs. It’s not just the water that’s warm.

She almost forgets about Luka for a moment in the sheer, clean delight of the water running over her for the first time in a week and a half. Not quite, though, especially when the water soaks her shirt and underwear. 

Once her hair is wet, Luka puts a hand on her shoulder. “Okay, step back so that the water won’t make the shampoo run into your eyes.”

She moves backward toward him, inhaling at the heat coming off his bare chest, so close behind her. Then he gently reaches to smooth her hair back, and she’s just about undone.

She’s not going to survive this.

The pop of shampoo cap startles her, and Luka murmurs an apology. She feels the shampoo on her head, and then Luka’s fingers start massaging it in. 

Abby bites back a moan. God, she’d forgotten how talented those hands and fingers are. She can’t keep her head from falling back, lips parted in pleasure.

Of course, that brings her closer to Luka. He gasps when her head brushes his chest, and it finally hits her that this isn’t just affecting her. Swaying back, she finds him very affected indeed, his hardness very noticeable even through the cloth of her shirt and his boxers. 

He just continues rubbing the shampoo in, his fingers lingering at the nape of her neck. Finally, he lowers his hands and speaks, voice rough as she’s ever heard it. “Ah, done with the shampoo. If you turn around it might be easier to rinse it out so it doesn’t get in your eyes.”

Mutely, she follows his direction, eyes closed as she tries to get all the suds out of her hair. Once she’s pretty sure she’s gotten it all, she steps forward and opens her eyes. 

God. Luka licks his lip, and she’s not sure whether he’s pink from embarrassment at being so obviously aroused or from the heat of the water or both. 

She doesn’t mind. In fact, she’s fairly certain she’s as wet from looking at him as she is from the shower. 

Shaking her head, Abby makes a monumental effort not to keep gawking and panting. “Um, do you want me to turn around for the conditioner, or…?”

Luka lets out a breath, and drags his gaze down her body. “I-If you want to stay like this, I can get it in fine. I mean, you don’t need to turn around.”

He’s so flustered, and it’s adorable. And very, very hot. 

She smiles. “All right.”

He squirts some of the conditioner into his hands, and she steps closer to let him work it into her hair.

Abby ends up resting her hands against his chest—for stability—and is gratified at the way his muscles jump and tense under her palms.

When he continues to massage the conditioner into her scalp, she can no longer keep quiet. A moan escapes her, and she’s about to apologize when Luka weakly murmurs, “God, Abby.” 

It takes all of her willpower and reminding herself about her stitches not to just jump into his arms and jump him. Taking a deep breath, she leans her head against his chest for a moment, glorying in the feel of his arms around her and his erection pressing into her stomach. Finally, she steps back, managing a shaky, “I’m going to rinse my hair out now.”

“Hnngh.”

She takes that as an acknowledgment and does so, though he reaches out at one point to make sure she gets the shampoo from above her right ear. 

She steps forward again and takes a breath. “Well, that’s me.”

Luka swallows, then nods. “I, uh, I’ll let you finish up in here. Let me know when your clothes are ready for the washing machine.”

He steps out of the shower before she can reply, and over the falling water, she can hear him muttering as he pulls off his boxers. She thinks he says something about an ice pack, and she smiles, though she strongly relates. She unbuttons her shirt and pulls off her underwear, clearing her throat and telling him, “Uh, my clothes are here?”

He pulls back the curtain slightly, and she places the wet garments into his waiting hands. “Okay, I’ll go, ah, start the laundry.”

“Sounds good.” 

As soon as she hears the click of the door closing, Abby drops her hand between her legs.

* * *

Emerging from the shower clean and infinitely more relaxed, Abby finds Luka sitting on the couch, changed into jeans and a simple t-shirt. He looks up at her, grinning sheepishly, still blushing. 

She can’t help but smile back. “I was thinking about finishing up reading the latest Lancet, but then I might watch something. Anything you want to see?”

“I’m not picky about it,” he says before frowning.

“What?”

“Your hair. It’s dripping.”

“Well, I could only get the ends of it with the towel.” Taking a deep breath, Abby swallows. “Would you mind helping me brush it? Sorry if it’s a rat’s nest, but…”

“Anything you need. And your hair isn’t a nest of anything. It’s beautiful.”

In spite of having taken care of herself recently, she feels a pang of desire at the hunger and adoration in his gaze.

They go into her room and settle on the bed, Luka sitting behind her. He dries her hair a little more before taking the hairbrush Abby hands him. 

It’s surprisingly calming. Abby realizes with some surprise that this is a kind of intimacy they never experienced when they were together before. 

Some of the want fades with the gentle strokes of the brush through her hair, replaced by an ache of a different sort. “You’re good at this,” she says.

“Hmm?”

“The hair-brushing and all that.”

“Ah,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice. “I used to brush Jasna’s hair whenever I was home and not working.”

“That must have been nice.”

“I liked it. I like this,” he says.

Clearing her throat, Abby says, “Thank you. For this and earlier. Really for taking care of me in general.”

Luka laughs. “You don’t need to thank me. I definitely enjoyed earlier too.”

She giggles. “It was…”

“Nice?”

“Something like that,” she says, shaking her head, lips spread wide in a smile. 

She feels Luka brush his lips against the top of her head. “All done.”

Abby is definitely done for, and the best part is finding that she doesn’t mind.

* * *

As they get ready for bed that evening, some of the butterflies return to Abby’s stomach. 

Will their interlude in the shower change anything? Is it a prelude to more? Or will it have put Luka off? He obviously wants her, but she’s not sure how much of that is biology and how much of it has to do with _her_. And she can’t make a move at him when she’s not sure he feels the way she does, if making love won’t mean the same thing to him that it would to her. Luka clearly cares about her, but it may just be in a platonic way. Earlier just could have been the result of him seeing a woman’s body in a context that’s normally more sexual. Hell, the last time they showered together when they dated it was sexual, and the body tends to remember that. Luka, too, has a notoriously high libido and he’s been single for a while now. 

Abby bites her lip as she pulls back the covers. She’s tempted to just try to go to bed and ignore her quandary, but she has a feeling that might not help in the long run.

Luka pokes his head into the room. “Ready for bed?”

“Um, yeah. You?”

“Yup.” He comes in, his t-shirt and pajama pants clean and fresh from the dryer. 

She can’t help but smile at him, even as she remembers she needs to bring something up. Taking a deep breath, she says, “Luka?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we okay? After earlier, in the shower?”

He stops in his tracks and stares at her, nonplussed. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I-I just don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable or that you don’t really want.”

“I wasn’t exactly _comfortable_ , but I definitely wanted that. And you.”

She sits down on her side of the bed, looking down at her hands in her lap. “Then why—why didn’t you…”

“Abby, you still have stitches in. You’re recovering from a major surgery,” he explains, apparently unbelieving that he has to say this. “I could never forgive myself if I hurt you.”

Oh. _Oh_. It doesn’t answer all of her questions, but it helps. “Right, that.”

“If it weren’t—” he sighs, interrupting himself, “—anyway, how are you doing with that? Any residual pain?”

Looking at him, she can’t imagine feeling any physical pain. “Nope, none. Soooo, ready for bed?”

Smiling back at her, Luka nods. “Yeah. Sleep well, Abby.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings are hard, and so is talking about them. Especially if you're a grade-A chicken like Abby and Luka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Mother's Day! As usual, I persist in writing the wrong holiday.

A week later, Luka helps Abby into the ER so they can get her stitches removed. He’ll remove them himself, but he wants a sterile room to do it. It’s Abby, and he won’t do anything to put her in the slightest amount of danger if he can help it.

As they walk in, Jerry calls out a greeting. “Abby! And Luka. Dr. Weaver wants to talk whenever you have a chance!”

“Great, I’ll stop by her office when we’re done. Do you know if any of the exam rooms are open?”

“Uh, I think...yeah, Exam 3 is.”

“Thanks, Jerry,” Abby says, letting Luka guide her there with a hand on the small of her back. They’re turning a corner when they nearly run into Neela. 

Neela lights up when she sees Abby, and Luka drops his hand as the two women embrace. 

“You’re here! Getting the stitches out?” Neela asks.

Abby nods, pulling back from their hug. “Yeah, Luka’s going to remove them. It’s good to see you. How’s married life treating you?”

“Great so far. When are you coming back to work? I miss you.”

Clearing his throat, Luka interjects, “Ah, I think that’s one of the things Kerry wants to talk about. Getting both of us back on the schedule.”

“I’m ready whenever,” Abby says.

Both Luka and Neela turn to her, eyebrows raised. His jaw tightens and he peers down at her. “Neither I or Dubenko would allow that.”

Abby puts her hands on her hips and scowls up at him. “And since when are you and Dubenko the ones telling me what to do?”

“Since he operated on you, and since I’ve been seeing to your follow-up care,” he says, running a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“I’m a doctor too, Luka.”

“I’m very glad of that, but you don’t tend to look after yourself well, Abby. I’m just—”

“—taking your new position of Chief too seriously?”

He wants to scream. “No, I’m trying to look after you because I care about you! I don’t want you to be hurt, and I want you to—just, please, Abby.”

Neela looks back and forth between them, eyes wide, before turning away to give them a moment.

Some of the tension leaves Abby’s shoulders, and she bites her lip. Finally, she slumps. “Okay. I just want to get back to work.”

“I know that, and believe me, I want that too. But give yourself time to rest. Dubenko, Kerry, and I all want to make sure you’re completely better, so we’re following strict medical guidelines.”

Neela interrupts with a cough. “I need to go see to one of my patients, but come find me before you leave?”

Abby shakes her head. “Sure. I’ll see you then.”

When Neela is gone, he and Abby exchange a slightly awkward look, then shuffle into the empty exam room. 

“Uh, do you want to get into a gown? I can wait outside while you do that.”

“Sure.”

“You can leave your underwear on, and just knock when you’re ready.”

“Next you’ll be telling me removing the stitches will tug a little but shouldn’t hurt.”

“Sorry,” he says, sheepish. “I’ll just be…”

“Right outside. Got it.” She softens the harshness of her reply with a small smile, and it restores his humor.

It’s only a couple minutes until he hears the soft knock at the door and goes back in, Abby shuffling onto the chair. He catches a glimpse of her back through the gown, but tries not to stare. It’s one of those things that’s gotten increasingly difficult since what Luka now mentally refers to as the shower incident. 

_Luka stares blankly at the washing machine as he loads it. What just happened? That, in the shower with Abby…_

_He knows it wasn’t a good idea, but he just wants to help her and be there for her however he can. Now, though, he’s paying the price. He’s hard as a rock, his brain is scrambled, and there are butterflies in his stomach as he tries to think what it all means._

_He loves her. He also wants her. Oh, how he wants her. It had been torture in the shower, hearing her moan and seeing how affected she was, and doing nothing about it. She hadn’t judged him for his obvious reaction, she’d stepped CLOSER._

_Damn it, this isn’t helping him now. Luka takes a deep breath and tries to calm down as he starts the washing machine. Maybe a cold glass of water will help._

_Wandering the short distance to the kitchen, he gets himself a glass. That’s when he hears it—the distinct sounds of Abby pleasuring herself in the shower._

_Fuck, fuck, fuck. God is punishing him for his sins, he has to be. For starters, it’s very unfair that she gets to get off when he can’t. He doesn’t have the privacy for it, and he’s not going to act like a middle-schooler and use a sock. He also can’t burst in on Abby and bury himself in her, much as he wants to. He HAS to find something else to think about._

_Luka realizes he has to change into jeans. Wearing sweat pants is too comfortable, and it will make things far too obvious when Abby gets out of the shower. And he should wear a shirt, because if the way Abby was looking at him was any indication, they might otherwise end up having sex without any regard for their feelings._

_That’s the crux of it, he thinks, pulling on a heathered grey t-shirt. He has too many feelings to be casual or to sleep with her without knowing it means something to her too.If he takes her to bed, they need to be open to love, if not there already. Hell, he’s definitely there and has been for years._

_He wanders back into the living room and takes a seat on the couch, pulling a throw pillow onto his lap. Even if he can’t will his erection away, at least it won’t be as noticeable. He hears the water turn off, and though his arousal has abated a little, it comes back in full force at the image of a very wet Abby stepping out of the shower._

_He silently starts naming and mapping the muscles of the face and neck. He’s on the levator anguli oris when Abby finally emerges, wrapped in a robe._

_She’s gorgeous, and there’s no way he can survive helping her wash her hair ever again._

Luka shakes his head, trying to come back to the present and the task at hand. He has no regrets about that shower, and knows Abby doesn’t either, but all the same, he’s very glad he remembered a couple days later how to wash someone’s hair in a kitchen sink.

“All right, I’m going to remove the stitches now,” Luka tells Abby after cleaning the site. 

She nods. “I hate the feeling of it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I know it doesn’t hurt, but it feels weird.”

“I think it’s supposed to.”

“Some people are into it, though,” she says. “Weirdos.”

Luka laughs quietly. He’s trying to think of something to say to distract her when Abby speaks. 

“Was this what it was like for you?”

“...huh?” Luka is lost.

“Um, when you were recovering from malaria. Having people fussing over you, asking questions, being over-protective...”

“Abby, it’s not being over-protective when you could have died,” he says, exasperated.

He sees her raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh, and you weren’t in danger of death?”

“That was different. I was...it was different.”

“Luka, we thought you died. They told me you died, and we all thought that for five full days.”

Snip, pull. He continues to methodically remove her stitches, hands steady even though his throat is dry and his heart is racing. “What did you do?” he croaks. At least he’s been able to be beside her, knowing full well her status at all times since her appendectomy.

She bites her lip and looks down. “Worked a lot, mostly. If I wasn’t working, I needed to be sleeping, or then…”

“Then what?”

“Then I’d have had to think about it. Deal with it and mourn.”

“Would that have been so bad?” He’s done now, though he doesn’t tell her that.

Abby looks at him like he’s insane. “Of course it would have been, you idiot. You—I—”

“You were with Carter,” he interjects.

She snorts. “Barely. And that doesn’t matter. You know it doesn’t. I didn’t want you to go to the Congo. You were my friend and I missed you, and the idea of you not being here—” 

This time it’s not him interrupting her, but her getting choked up. Luka reaches over and places a hand over hers. “I came back. And I’m fine now.”

A melancholy smile twists her mouth, and she takes his hand. “You are, but—I get it, the worrying. Only worse, because I thought you were _gone_.”

He’s not really sure how to respond. “Oh.”

Taking a deep breath, she glances over at him. “And besides, I haven’t had a French nurse seeing to my every need.”

He’ll let her lighten up this conversation. This isn’t the place or the time, and it’s too heavy to deal with right now. “Ah, excuse you, Gillian was Canadian.” God, he hasn’t thought about her in years. “Besides, you don’t need a French nurse. You have a Croatian doctor.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not seeing to the same needs that—oh my god.” This time she cuts herself off in embarrassment, turning the brightest red he’s ever seen.

Luka smirks.

Abby lifts up a hand before he can say anything. “Don’t, just let me die here in my embarrassment.”

Reluctantly, he pats her and lets her know he’s done stitching her up, his thoughts still on their conversation. He leaves to let her get dressed again, waiting for her to emerge. When she does, he says, “Hey, I need to meet with Kerry. You can wait if you want, or you could drive back now and I’ll take the El.” 

“I’ll wait. I’ll be in the lounge, and I can catch up with anyone who’s there.”

“Sounds good. Oh, Abby?” He reaches for her wrist, and she waits, looking up at him expectantly. “It’s like I said before, whatever you want, just tell me, and I’ll do it.” 

He drops her hand and turns to walk away, smiling as he catches a glimpse of her face. 

For once, Abby’s speechless.

* * *

Luka talks to Kerry for a while hashing out his schedule. He needs to come back to work; now that Abby’s out of danger and doesn’t need daily assistance, he needs to be at the hospital. He’s the new Chief, after all. 

Kerry puts him on for the next day as well as Tuesday and Thursday. “We’ll make the 24th your first official day as Chief, and then you can have Christmas Day off.”

Normally he’d argue and say there was no need, but with Abby also not being scheduled...he’s hopeful. “Okay. And, ah, could I possibly arrange to not be here on New Year’s Eve?”

“Abby doesn’t start again until the 2nd, right? I think we can spare you for then as well,” Kerry says, fighting a smile. 

Luka won’t look at a gift horse in the teeth, or whatever the saying is. “Thanks. Are you…” he trails off, not sure what he’s asking.

“I’ll work on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Henry will be with his grandparents, and, well, I don’t want to be alone.” 

He understands completely, and he doesn’t question why she isn’t ready to move on yet. Sometimes it takes a while. Or just the right person coming along.

After a little small talk, Luka heads back down and is ready to go find Abby. Just then, though, they get a call for pile-up, and it’s all hands on deck. They need him here, and Luka only pauses a moment before agreeing to stay a few hours and help out. “Okay, just let me tell Abby.”

Pratt nods and goes to prepare. Luka heads into the lounge, where he finds Abby chatting with Inez. She smiles at him, and he can’t help but grin back. “You ready?”

“Sorry, there’s a multi-MVC coming in, and they need some extra hands. I’m going to stay a couple hours until things settle. Do you want to drive home?” 

She considers for a minute before nodding. “Yeah, I’ll do that. But if you’re too tired when you’re done here, call me and I’ll come pick you up.”

“Will do,” he promises.

It isn’t necessary. It takes about four hours, but then Luka is free. Instead of being tired, though, he’s energized. It’s been too long since he’s been at the hospital, and they managed to save all but one of their criticals from the accident. He takes a taxi to Abby’s, even if he’s fine, because he still has to be back at seven tomorrow morning. 

He lets himself in to find Abby sitting on the couch digging through a cardboard box. 

“Hey, I’m back. What have you got there?”

She smiles up at him. “Hey. How was the trauma?”

“Only one of patients who wasn’t DOA died. Everyone else was stable when I left.”

“That’s good. I’m, um, I’m going through my Christmas decorations. I’m not normally off on Christmas, so I don’t have a lot. But I want to make it at least a little festive,” she says.

That’s unexpected, in a way, but he gets it. He notes the wistful look on her face as she pulls out a tree ornament. “That’s nice.” He wants to say more, but he spies his empty duffel bag in the corner of her room and his journals on her coffee table. “I, ah, I have a shift tomorrow at seven.”

“Oh, wow. Do you want me to cook or order food? You’ll need to go to bed earlier than you have been.”

Luka swallows. “So...you don’t mind if I stay tonight?”

A blush spreads across her cheeks as she shakes her head. “No, not at all. I mean, you can go back to your place if you want, but your stuff is here. It might be a pain to have to move everything until you have a few days off anyway. But it’s up to you.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. She doesn’t want him to leave, at least not yet. Thank God. “That works for me, I just don’t want to be a bother. I’ll be off Christmas and the day after.”

“You’re not a bother. I like the company.” Abby looks relieved too, and Luka feels the stirrings of hope in his chest. He’s tired and he has a shift, so he doesn’t want to say anything yet, but knowing he probably can...that means everything.

* * *

It’s Thursday evening, and Abby listens to Christmas music while she puts up the last of the decorations she’s found. Before she can question it, Abby moves the snowglobe Luka got her a few years ago from its place on one of her bookshelves to the coffee table. _Greensleeves_ or _What Child Is This_ , whatever. It’s Christmassy, and she likes it.

Luka will be back soon. He called and let her know when he was on his way back, and it gave her enough time to call the Indian place a few blocks away and order their dinner. She’s so glad he’s staying. She has no idea how long it will last—they can’t keep doing this forever, the tension and tenderness growing with each passing night. 

It’s nice, him being there. They never run out of things to talk about, but they’re just as comfortable sitting in companionable silence and reading. She looks forward to seeing him after his shifts, and he seems just as happy to see her. 

But she just really, really wants to kiss him. 

Abby’s not entirely sure what’s stopping her, either. He’s obviously attracted to her again...or still, maybe. And he likes her plenty as well. Her only real worry is that he doesn’t like her as much as she likes him. If she kisses him and he humors her or goes along with it...she’s done for. 

In spite of her worrying, though, she’s not without hope that he cares for her, too. He’s been there for her like no one else has been, and his reluctance to leave, well…

Her musing is interrupted by the sound of clattering outside her door. Abby shuffles over to peer through the peephole. She lets out a sigh of relief when she sees Luka, but he’s leaning something against the wall in the hall. 

She opens the door for him. “Uh, hey. What’s…”

She trails off. Luka is smiling sheepishly at her, his hand on the wrapped up Christmas tree. “Surprise?”

For a moment, she can’t do anything but stare at him, nonplussed. Then, her heart wells with affection and something deeper, and Abby can’t help it. She throws her arms around him.

Luka stands there for a second before letting go of the tree and wrapping his arms around her. They stand there in the hallway until the tree falls to the floor with a gentle, bouncing thud. 

They start and pull apart, looking down at the tree. Then Abby giggles, and Luka’s low chuckle follows. 

He wraps one arm around her shoulders to pull her close again. “So you like it? It’s not too much?”

“It’s perfect, and definitely too much. But...how did you—how did you find this? It’s only a few more days until Christmas.”

“The sellers want to get rid of the last of their stock. And they also want to charge a fortune.”

Abby shakes her head. “You didn’t have to.” 

“I know, but it seemed like you wanted a tree.”

“I—yeah, I did. Thank you,” she says, pausing and looking up at him from the circle of his embrace. “Um, we should probably get it inside instead of leaving it here in the hallway.”

Luka disentangles himself from Abby, and to her glee, he seems reluctant about that. They drag the tree inside before Abby realizes something is missing.

“Um, Luka?”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t happen to get a tree stand while you were out, did you?”

He makes that adorable, confused panicky face he gets when he’s forgotten something important or stepped into a fraught situation. “Ah…”

Abby sighs. It’s three days until Christmas, the only place they’ll be able to find something is at a big box store. 

Then Luka breaks and starts cackling. When he sees her face, he just laughs more. “Sorry, yeah, it’s in the car. I couldn’t carry it in at the same time as the tree.”

She smacks his arm. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

“And charming?” he asks, still grinning broadly. 

Rolling her eyes, she smiles up at him. “You’re _extremely_ charming, and you’ll be even more charming if you go get that tree stand.”

“You’re going to make me go out back into the cold when I dragged in the tree?” He gives her that stupid, puppy-dog look that makes her want to (a) give him whatever he asks and (b) fling herself at him. 

Nevertheless, she gives him a light shove, and he chuckles as he lets her herd him out. “Yes, and you’ll survive. I’m going to see if I have any lights we can put on the tree.”

She finds a box with some strings of lights that she hasn’t used in years, and she prays they still work. _God_. He got her a Christmas tree. She hadn’t even told him how wistful she was about the holiday and wanting to celebrate.

Unraveling the strands of lights while she waits for him, she thinks. It’s her first time in over six years that she’s not working on Christmas, and she doesn’t want to be alone for it. Luka isn’t working, and she thinks he’s intending to stay, but...she needs to know.

Luka comes back in a few minutes later, tree stand and a box of ornaments in tow. “I wasn’t sure if you had enough, but we don’t need to use them if you don’t want to.”

“No, that’s good. I don’t have a ton, so it’ll help the tree look fuller. Want to help me decorate?”

“Of course, let me get the tree in the stand first.”

Abby sits on the couch to keep working on the lights while Luka wrangles the tree. In reality, she just has a really good view of him bending over and muttering in Croatian. 

Eventually, he gets it set up and they go to work wrapping the lights around the tree. 

“Next year, I’m making you do the lights by yourself. Your arms are long enough for it,” Abby says. Then it dawns on her what just came out of her mouth, and she feels herself turning red. 

Luka manages to look both stunned and pleased, though he recovers quickly. “As long as you’re willing to help me pick out the tree,” he says quietly.

Goodness, is it warm in here? Or is it just her heart beating really fast? Still, she licks her lips and replies, “Sure. Um, about that…”

“Yeah?”

It reminds her of five years ago, her nervously standing in lockup twirling her hair and asking him out and him playing dumb (or possibly being dumb, she knows now). “What are you doing on Christmas? Because if you’re not busy, I was kind of thinking—and here’s the thing, normally I’d be working, so—”

“Abby.” He interrupts her, but he’s smiling.

“Uh, so yeah. Would you like to spend Christmas with me? Here, together?” She doesn’t quite keep her nerves out of her voice, but at least she manages to ask.

He beams at her. “Yes, sure. I kind of thought, or maybe hoped, we were, but—”

“—yeah.”

Oh god, he’s been _hoping_ they would? After taking care of her and buying her a Christmas tree? She knows he wants her, but maybe...maybe he wants what she does. And she wants everything with him.

Abby reaches over to place a hand on his arm. She isn’t sure what she wants to say, but Luka seems to get the picture. He finishes putting the string of lights in place and turns toward her, licking his lips as he stares down at her. 

He leans toward her and wraps his arms around her, and she stands on her tip-toes in his embrace. His lips are only an inch from hers when her intercom buzzes loudly.

Abby remembers. “Shit, the food.”

When she answers on the intercom, the guy on the other side apologetically answers, “Uh, ma’am? I’m so sorry we ran late, we had some trouble in the kitchen, but if you want you can have a coupon for your next visit.” 

“Oh, um, no worries. I’ll buzz you in.”

A few minutes later, their food is sitting on the table and they’re ready to dig in. There’s still some tension from their almost-kiss, but the mood seems to have dissipated for now. Besides, they’re hungry. 

But Abby can’t help stealing a glance at him from under her lashes. He catches her looking over at him, and he just gives her one of those heart-melting grins of his. As soon as they have their food, he reaches over for her hand.

This is going to be a great Christmas.


End file.
